


Crazy Christmas Chaos (COC 2020)

by finding_niamho



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Chaos, Christmas, Christmas stories, Distance, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Longing, Love Letters, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Quarantine, Snow, Some angst, University, but it'll turn out fine I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 16,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finding_niamho/pseuds/finding_niamho
Summary: Simon's meant to be staying with Baz in Hampshire for Christmas. But with the Pitches being the Pitches, COVID-19 still wreaking havoc on travel plans and all the usual magic and mayhem of Christmas, who knows what will happen? (Seriously, even I don't know.)
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 59
Kudos: 72
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	1. Prologue - Found Family

**Author's Note:**

> Simon and Baz check-in with each other with quarantine letters. Simon is bored and Baz's hand hurts.

20th December 2020

_From the desk of Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch._

Dear Simon,

I could write all this in a text or an email, but you do know how I enjoy a good letter. That being said, this is the fifth draft of this one that I’ve written, and the only one that doesn’t sound like I’m writing to my lover in the trenches. Although to be fair, London does feel awfully far from here at the moment. I’m so glad that you’re going to be able to escape that dreary dump for Christmas. Honestly, I was getting quite worried that they were going to extend the restrictions and keep you trapped over there forever. Don’t think for a moment that that would have stopped me from finding a way to spell you over here, even if you were then trapped _here_ forever. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it Snow? You’d have to become better acquainted with the wraiths, though.

The reason I’m writing is that every year at Christmas my family sends out letters to various relatives and people that we love. ~~I guess what I’m trying to say is that this is a love letter.~~ Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so forward in that last part. I would start again, but honestly, my hand is beginning to ache and it’s work not to smudge this whole thing. So, yes. I’m sending you this because I love you and absolutely can’t wait for you to come and stay for Christmas.

Yours,

Baz x

P.S. Tell Bunce that I say hello.

* * *

Dear Baz,

Merlin, how posh are you? Paper with your name printed on it?? And I bet you wrote it with some fancy fountain pen. While we’re at it, you talk well poshly in letters. I’m just writing down my thoughts here. I feel like that’s very on-brand for me, yeah? Just rushing on without a plan.

That being said (see? I can be posh too, you wanker), your letter did make me very happy. Ok, very happy doesn’t really cut it. You know how I am with my words. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re writing a letter for family to me. Never thought I’d say this, but it feels like your family is my family, you know? Even your dad, kind of. Say hi to all of them from me (or, like, good day or whatever you all say to each other).

Nothing’s going on on campus at the moment and walking down to check the mailbox is one of my only excuses to get outside. (That and buying scones from the co-op.) Penny’s doing alright, but she’s been trying out some new recipes to try and mix things up and some of them have turned out pretty gross. You’re so lucky that you managed to get home when you did so you don’t have to cook for yourself all the time. The food at your place is amazing and I can’t wait for it! (And to see you, obviously).

Love,

Simon xxxxxx


	2. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz are both bored with their work - and with being so far apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to do actual research to make this chapter plausible, including a spreadsheet, google maps searches and a late-night call to my family to discuss Baz's career options. Hope it was worth it! 🐟

**Simon**

I put down my pen and stare out of the window, even though there’s a voice in my head telling me not to. Deep down, I know that I  _ should _ listen to that voice but I’m bored and I miss the outside. Every day, it seems to get further and further away, like the house is growing. I know that technically I could go out, but there’s just nowhere to go. Unless I go to Co-op again…

Penny banned me from co-op when I told her how often I’d been going down there to get extra scones.

“Simon! That Co-op’s for emergencies!”

“This  _ is  _ an emergency!”

“No, an emergency is for if you’re out of something essential, like tea!”

I folded my arms at that, or one of my arms. The other was holding the phone.

“How come no tea is an emergency and no scones isn't?”

“Because when people come round, no one asks for scones and practically everyone asks for tea.”

“What would you know about that? We haven’t been able to have people round for nearly a year!”

I go back to my work, my eyes catching Baz’s letter in the corner of the desk. I promised him that I’d make a real go of uni this time.  _ Ok Baz,  _ I think.  _ Let’s get back to it. _

  
  


**Baz**

My siblings are watching Hercules in the front room, singing along to  _ Go the Distance _ . They’ve become suddenly addicted to Disney films again, as they always do in the runup to Christmas.

Unable to concentrate among the noise, I put down my pen and rub my temples with the heels of my hands. I should be studying more, but I’ve just been so restless lately. The whole routine has become so monotonous. Christmas will be a chance to relax and then restart. And, I think as I glance down at Simon’s letter, a chance to do something that I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time.

After Watford, Simon and I drifted apart. Not just physically, but every day it felt like I was losing him. Like I had to shout for him to hear me across an ocean of trauma between him and the rest of the world. I don't know if America brought us together or just pushed us further apart, but I know that it forced us to ask ourselves if we really wanted this anymore. We agreed that after that summer, we'd both give it a real try. Simon took a gap year for therapy, then started at UCL two years ago to do education. I carried on at the London School of Economics a 20-minute walk away, then managed to land a job at as an analyst with Baillie Gifford. It’s mind-numbingly tedious at the moment, but hopefully when I work my way up to investment manager things’ll perk up a bit.

Now I'm more sure of this than ever. Even though we haven't seen each other in person for several months, the distance between us seems shorter, somehow. Simon and I call at least once a week, where I tell him about the madness that my siblings have created and he tells me about the chaos that ensues when you ask five teenagers to share a house. Even though Simon’s technically in his second year (he took a foundation year, so you could say third year), he stayed in student accommodation as a residential advisor to support the freshers moving in there.  _ That’s just the kind of person he is,  _ I think with a smile.  _ He cares enough about total strangers to live with them in a house that doesn’t even have a dishwasher. _

  
I check that no one’s looking, then reach into the back of my desk draw. I pull out the early Christmas present that I’m going to give to him when he arrives on Christmas eve. One that shows how much  _ I  _ care. No matter what the distance.


	3. Retellings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz tells his siblings a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe this is a wee bit off-brand for Baz's posh family but hey! Stick Man's THE story for anyone waiting for someone to come home for Christmas. 🐟

**Baz**

“Baz! Read me Stick Man!” My six-year-old brother, Edwin, bounces on the sofa next to me.

“Get someone else to do it, I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

I lower my book and narrow my eyes at him. “Plotting your demise.”

He starts giggling, then abruptly stops. “What does plotting your disguise mean?”

“Not disguise,  _ demise. _ ”

“What does  _ that _ mean?”

“This!” I yell, reaching out to tickle him. He squeals, clutching his sides and laughing. “Okay.” I place my book on the coffee table. “Go and get your sisters.”

“Yay!” he runs off, the book still clutched in his sticky hands.

It was a tradition that started a few years ago when Edwin was a toddler. One of our relatives bought him the book for Christmas and he became fascinated by it, so much so that he used to try to put twigs in trees, then cry when he couldn’t reach.

“He needs to get back to the family tree!” he would scream. “He needs to be there for Christmas!”

But that was incomparable to the tantrum that came when he caught Vera putting extra kindling in the fireplace. I had to warm myself with just magickal fire for weeks. Now that we’re older he could read it himself, but it’s a tradition that every year before Christmas my siblings and I all sit down together and read Stick Man.

That’s how I find myself on the sofa in our library with four little Grimms spread out before me. Well, not so little anymore I suppose. Mordelia’s practically a teenager. I sigh and open the book onto the first page.

“ _ Stick Man lives in the family tree _

_ With his Stick Lady Love and their stick children three _ .”

As I read, I turn the book so that the others can see the illustrations, even though we all know every little detail of them by now. I’m very gifted at reading this book upside down now. As Stick Man tries, again and again, to return to his tree, I can’t help thinking of Simon. Of all of those times when he was trying to find a home somewhere to come back to. Watford must have been the first place where he knew he was going to return. The place where he was going to return to me, snarling and sneering at him. I can’t imagine how scary it must have been once there wasn’t even Watford to go back to for him.

When the story finishes, Edwin cheers as he always does once Stick Man is safely reunited with his family. Then, my siblings all scatter into separate rooms again. I look out of the window at the trees waving in the wind, thinking of a few day’s time when Simon will find his way back to me. And then again in a few year’s time, when this is all over and we have a place of our own. Some years after that, when we have our own little family tree with our own children begging for the same story over and over again.

  
_ Be back soon, love,  _ I tell him silently.  _ There’ll always be a home for you wherever I am. I promise. _


	4. Side Charaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon takes some time out to visit an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I did cry while writing this chapter. It's Ebb appreciation time!  
> -🐟

I thank the driver (who I checked wasn’t a goblin) and step out of the taxi, taking off my mask. The sound of it driving off behind me is almost drowned out by the cacophony that fills my head when I turn to look up the hill at Watford. It’s always strange, going back. When I look at it, I can remember when it was filled with children running across the fields, having picnics and casting spells. The air would always be thick with magic, the smell so strong that I could taste it.

Then I blink and I can taste smoke. The White Chapel is pulsing with magic, my magic, the last of it that I’ll ever use.

I blink again and the fire has spread to the grounds, the grass and trees sparking and snapping as blackness spreads across the stones.

In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4.

All that’s behind me now, and I am stronger.

“I am stronger,” I mutter to myself. It’s always hard at first, going back. I think it’s always going to be a little bit hard, but that’s ok. It helps to remember that there are good memories here too. I’ve been happy here, too. That reminds me of why I come back at least once a year: for Ebb.

Ebb was the first adult in my life to show me any kind of love. I used to think that the Mage cared about me, in his own cold, distant way. I thought that what he was showing me was love. I was eleven and he was the first person who told me that I was important. How was I supposed to know that wasn’t real?

No, Ebb was the first adult to talk to me like  _ I  _ mattered. She was like a mother to me, caring for me like I was one of her heard. (Okay, that sounds weird. But then again, Ebb was a little weird). I was allowed to help out with the goats as much as I wanted and it made me feel useful. But useful because  _ I _ wanted to be, not because I was destined to be. She was also the first person I ever bought a Christmas present and she was so delighted with it, she put it on the shelf she had set up in the barn. She only put the things that she loved the most up there.

I guess that’s one of the reasons why I always think of her this time of year. That, and because I don’t know if she’s got many people who think of her around the time of her death. I know she’s got family, but I don’t know how close she was to any of them, since she lived at Watford most of the time, cut off from the rest of the world. I like that she’s still here, buried in the Wavering Wood where no one can bother her.

“‘Cept you of course, Simon,” she’d smile at me. “You feel free to bother me anytime, yeah?”

I imagine smiling back at her now as I lay some flowers down by the headstone at my feet.

“Hiya, Ebb. I’m back. And before you say anything, the nannies are fine."


	5. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories bring back memories bring back you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I write this, I am also very tired so, you know, life imitates art I guess. 🐟

**Baz**

I sigh, turning myself over again and laying my face on the palm of my hand. Below it, the pillow is flat and my bed is as lumpy and uncomfortable as ever. But that’s not what’s keeping me up. I reach my other hand out to the air beside the bed, imagining Simon’s reaching back for me. When I close my eyes, I can pretend that it’s a few days from now and we’re holding up our hands between our faces, not needing to say anything.

We were like that, the first time that I told him that I loved him. The first time I told him properly, I mean. I’d been trying to show it for all those years before but I’d never had the courage to be so direct, so… sure out loud before. But after everything we’d been through, it seemed silly to get hung up over something as trivial as pride. It slipped out quietly at first, more of an exhalation of breath that barely disturbed the air between us. I remember so clearly the way his eyes widened, how the room around us seemed to quieten even more. A blanket surrounded us and it was just me, him and my exhilarated confession hanging above the hands between us.

All was still.

Then.

“I love you, too.”

A smile, a kiss. These fragments that keep me sane when the world around is descending into chaos. Simon’s always been the one thing that I can hold onto. I just need to be patient for a little while longer.

_ Goodnight, Simon,  _ I think, as I fall softly to sleep.

_ I love you. _

***

**Simon**

I’m tired of staring at this stupid blank wall. I’m tired, full stop. But my brain won’t  _ shut up. _ It’s all: work, deadlines, Watford, magic, COVID. This room is too hot and too cold and too small and too big and-.

In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4.

I turn away from the wall. Stupid wall with its stupid white paint that’s not allowed blue tack on it.

Staring into the darkness on the other side my hand stretches out, reaching. I’ve always done this when I’m trying to sleep, I don’t know why. When Baz is there, he’ll usually reach back. One time he did, it was urgent, like he was worried that I’d drift away.

“I love you,” he whispered, just as urgently. The first time he’d said it. I almost didn’t hear him, it was so quiet. But oh, it was a beautiful sound. One that I immediately wanted to hear again. It comes back to me often, that whisper. And I still feel the same feeling rush through me when I hear it. Because Baz  _ loves  _ me. Baz loves  _ me. _

And isn’t that wonderful?

Then he looked startled as if he’d surprised himself by admitting it out loud. I love it when he looks like that. Caught off-guard. It was nice to know that he wasn’t so confident and full of himself  _ all  _ of the time. I felt like I’d discovered another part of him and wanted to keep discovering. I wanted to know all of him.

“I love you, too.”

I smile at the memory, as I did then. I close my eyes, thinking of a few days when I’ll be able to tell him again.

_ Goodnight, Baz. _

_ I love you. _


	6. WLW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordelia simply refuses to knock. But she's got other things on her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tribute to annoying younger siblings everywhere and a reminder that you don't need to have all of the answers immediately. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting. You're all amazing. 🐟

21st December 2020

**Baz**

I’m awoken infuriatingly early by the sound of my bedroom door opening and the sound of combat boots stomping across the rug. She’s really changing more and more into Fiona with each passing day.

“Knock!” I mumble into my pillow, wondering when my sister’s inability to wait before coming into a room is going to change.

She sighs and she sounds… more tired than usual. Defeated. Maybe she couldn’t sleep last night either. Although, I have no idea what could be keeping her up. I suppose that she just entered her second year at Watford and they do tend to step up the workload a bit then. But Mordelia’s never really been one to worry about schoolwork (much to mine and my parents’ exasperation).

In response to the impatient pounding on my door, I sit up, rubbing my eyes and stretching.

“Come in!” I yell, repressing a yawn. What time is it?

She shuffles in, much more meekly this time. He arms are wrapped across her front, her fists hidden in the sleeves of her jumper.

“What is it?”

“May I?” She gestures at the bed, and I draw my knees towards me to make room. She sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, facing the window. This is unprecedented. Usually, I only see my siblings at mealtimes. Sometimes even then we’re allowed to eat meals in our rooms if we have work to do.

“Baz,” Mordelia starts, then hesitates. “Can I… ask you something?”

“I guess.” Normally, she’d glare at me for that response but today I can sense that something’s wrong. Perhaps holding my tongue would be best. “I mean, yes. Of course.”

“When did you realise?”

“Realise… what?” I raise an eyebrow.

“That you’re… you know…” she trails off, shrugging while gesturing to my entire being.

_Oh._

“Gay?”

“Yeah.” She goes red at the word. “Gay.”

“I guess I always just noticed boys more? No, not more, _differently._ I can’t really pinpoint a moment when I realised. It was just always there.”

“Oh. Okay.” I reach out and nudge her on the shoulder.

“Why do you ask? Has something happened?”

She shakes her head, not looking me in the eye. “No. Well, maybe. I’ve just been very confused lately. Like you’ve said, I’m finding that I-I _notice_ girls more. But I don’t know if it means anything, or if I’m making it up, or maybe I just _admire_ them… I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know straight away, you realise that?”

“Yes, but I just want to know _now,_ so that I can get on with my life.” Her voice hitches and her head falls into her hands. “I hate this, I thought I had everything figured out.”

I move to the edge of the bed and put an arm around her.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

We sit still for a bit, the only sound the occasional sniff from Mordelia. This must be hard for her. In this house, we don’t really talk about anything like this. She must see the way that I hide myself around Father, must be worried that she’ll have to hide, too. I think she’s the only member of this family that I’ve even heard say the word “gay” before.

“I just.” Her voice wobbles and she takes a breath. Then she sits up, wiping her eyes. “I see the way you are around Simon. You’re the happiest I ever see you. I want something like that. But how can I get that when I don’t even know _who_ I want?”

She looks up at me like I’ve somehow got all of the answers.

“Did you know,” I tell her, “that Simon doesn’t know what he is?”

He wouldn’t mind me saying this, we’ve talked about it before.

“What?”

“That’s right. But you know what? _It doesn’t matter._ It’s alright to not understand. You like who you like. You label yourself, or you don’t. It’s up to you.”

She sighs and lays her head on my shoulder. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been incredibly wise,” I smirk. “The real question is, when did you get so grown up?”

“If you’re so wise, how come I managed to find Simon’s Christmas present in your desk?”

I turn sharply towards her. “You cannot. Tell. Anyone.”

She grins mischievously. “A surprise, is it?”

“Yes.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

It’s my turn to grin. “I do.”

“Well,” she stands. “I think he’s going to love your present.”

She starts to walk away, then stops before she gets to the doorway.

“And Baz?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just make sure you knock next time.”

She sticks her tongue out as she turns away, informing me that she most certainly won’t.


	7. Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz takes a walk and makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you can't decide on an animal to write about? Write about a shapeshifter! Introducing River, a he/they shifter who I literally just made up but am already in love with. Also, congrats to Eliott Page, may you get all the love and support you deserve! ❤🐟

**Baz**

I place my keys in my back pocket and put on my gloves. It’s getting colder every morning now. And darker, like the sun can’t quite be bothered to come up. But I make the effort to go for a walk anyway so I don’t go absolutely crazy. My breath mists as I make my way into the forest and it’s so quiet that I can finally think about what Mordelia said to me earlier. We may live in a mansion, but it feels too small to contain my thoughts most of the time. I’m still pretty shocked, to be honest. Then again, wasn’t I doing the exact same thing at her age? Starting to, as I put it,  _ notice,  _ boys more? Well, one in particular…

Except I didn’t tell anyone. There was no one  _ to  _ tell. Looking back, maybe I wish that there was. Would it have made anything easier?

Well, I know that I can help make things easier for her. She seemed to take comfort in hearing Simon’s side of things. Maybe I’ll ask her if she wants to talk to-?

A whine echoes through the trees.

I chase the sound, my shoes crunching on the leaves. When I look to the left, I find a dog standing just off the path. There’s no one in sight and I’d be able to hear from quite far off if anyone were around. I look down again, only to find a squirrel in the same spot.

“Odd,” I say to it. “I thought that dogs chased away squirrels.”

And now I’m talking to a squirrel. Maybe I  _ have _ gone crazy. This train of thought is further confirmed when I blink and the squirrel disappears completely.

“What.”

I blink again and a bird chirps shrilly in my ear. Why are all of the animals so noisy today?

“Hey!”

Then it… laughs? Can birds laugh? Wait a minute.

“What are you?”

The laughing stops and I feel a tap on my shoulder. I jump, turning to find a figure around my age with slightly pointed ears.

“A  _ pixie? _ ” Oops, that came out louder than expected. I clear my throat. “You’re a pixie?”

“Not quite! I can be when I want to be, or I could be like you!” His voice rises and falls towards the end of his phrases. It quickens and lengthens in a way that doesn’t sound like any voice I’ve ever heard before. I quite like it.

He giggles as his skin pales and his ears round out, then flashes me a fang-toothed grin. I move to take a step back but stand my ground.

“I’m a shifter.” Then he transforms into a human (I think) and holds out a hand. “The name’s River.”

“Baz.” I shake his hand and he smiles again.

“Shall we?” We start walking back to the house. “So.  _ Baz. _ What brings you here?”

“I live here. What about you?”

He smirks. “Same.”

“What? Wait, where? For how long?”

“I’ve been living in this forest for the last five years. You and your family have only been here for one.”

“No, that’s not-.” I stop in my tracks. “Five years.”

“Well, almost. It’ll be five years on-.”

“Christmas Eve.” When the Humdrum came here. When I found out what he looked like, what he was. When I found out that he was  _ Simon. _ When everything…

“Change,” I whisper.

“What was that?”

“You’re drawn to change, aren’t you?”

He keeps walking. “Very clever, aren’t we?”

“So why are you here now?”

He stops. Turns.

“Because everything is about to change for you, Baz.”


	8. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather outside is frightful, but fluffy things help with survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated mine and my friend's tradition of watching movies while reeeally tired. Also to fluffy socks and blankets. The three of you are lifesavers. Also, you, yes YOU are awesome! Like Simon, we're all waiting to be reunited with people in our lives. Times are frustrating, but you are patient and strong and you will get through this. You know how I know? You're doing the noble thing by staying inside and reading some fanfiction! Woohoo! You're saving lives. Good for you. 🐟

**Simon**

I stumble through the door and run up the stairs to my room, trying not to drip water everywhere. I hang up my coat on the peg, then grab a towel to dry my hair. My coat has a hood, but I decided I'd rather run and have it fall down than walk for ages in the rain. I’m pretty sure than one of my shoes is getting a hole. Yup, my socks are soaked through. As are my jeans.

I toss them in my laundry bag and put on some pyjama bottoms and a pair of fluffy purple socks that Penny got me for my birthday. We used to do this, me and Baz. If we got home from a rainy day, we would be cold and dripping wet, so we’d put on pyjamas, grab a blanket and drink some hot chocolate. I’d be able to stretch my wings and wrap them around us to warm us up and dry us off (can’t get wet if they were never outside, can they?). We’d lean into each other, sleepy but happy. Sometimes Baz would read a book, or read to me, or we’d put on a movie. Sometimes we would even just talk if I felt up to it. Storms still make me jittery. I find that it helps to surround myself with soft things like the blanket and the pyjamas. If things got really bad, I would bunch the blanket up into a ball and hold on for deal life.

My therapist suggested that it might have been a sensory issue growing up, that my skin still needs those textures against it like when I was a baby. That makes sense I suppose, as I’m always needing to be holding something in my hands. At Watford, I had the Sword of Mages but I can’t go around summoning it whenever I fancy here. I’m pretty sure that my housemates already think that I’m in some kind of cult. Now, I have a collection of things to keep my hands occupied in my desk: stress balls, rubber bands, play dough, plus a load of other things.

Today’s been alright, but I grab my blanket just in case and pull it up to under my chin. While I’m opening up Netflix, I notice that I’m sitting on one side of the bed, almost as if I’m waiting for someone to join me. I mean, I guess I  _ am.  _ I’ve been waiting for four months. Somehow, knowing that I’m going to see Baz soon makes me miss him more. The fact that we’re so nearly together makes every second that we’re not cruel.

I hug the blanket closer, still not moving towards the middle. I make it cover half of my face and breathe it in, my own scent slowing down my frantic brain, which was starting to worry me.

In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4.

Once I’m calmer, I press play on She-Ra and text Baz a picture of the laptop and my fluffy-socked feet poking out from under the blanket.

_ The blanket’s lonely without you. Can’t wait to see you soon! Xx _

A few minutes later, I get a reply:  _ That girl with the sword looks like you. _

  
And a picture of a mug of hot chocolate in Baz’s hand, cashmere blanket in the background, with the caption:  _ I’m saving some for you! Can’t wait to see you, too. X _


	9. Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz looks over some old photos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, a bit of a short one today because IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!! 🐟

**Baz**

I’m sitting in the library again, my violin in its case beside me on the sofa. My music stand is still up, casting a long, thin shadow towards the door. In front of me, I have an old photo album opened to a picture of Father, Mother and I in front of the fireplace. There’s holly along the mantel and my mother is holding a wooden train in front of my face with one arm. The other is wrapped securely around my waist. The caption reads:  _ Tyrannus’ first Christmas, 1997. _

There are more variations of the same picture as I flip through the album:  _ 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001… _

There aren’t any more Christmas photos after that one.

The next photo I come across with me in it is me in my uniform, next to that same fireplace. I’m smiling, back straight and shoulders back. I’ve begun to pale in this one, but I think that I only notice that because I’m looking for it. The caption reads:  _ Basilton’s first day at Watford School of Magicks. _ Basilton, not Tyrannus. My Father’s writing.

After that come more pictures of a growing family in front of the fireplace: my siblings as babies, birthdays, family gatherings. I’m paler and paler in each one.

As I near the end of the album, I come across one from last year. It’s of Simon and me, taken from the back of us both huddled under a blanket in front of a roaring fire. His head rests on my shoulder, bronze curls flopping every which way. I didn’t know that anyone else was in there then. Underneath there’s a caption in Mordelia’s handwriting:  _ Simon and Baz, Christmas 2019. _

I flip back through the album, from the beginning. These pictures show my family and I grieving and growing, living and dying, changing, changing, changing. Each of these photos marks a change, big or small. Under a blank space on the next page, I write:  _ Simon and Baz, Christmas 2020. _

Because like River said, everything’s about to change.

And Mordelia had better have a camera when it does.


	10. Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FOR THE HONOUR OF GRAYSKULL!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dudes, this chapter was SO MUCH FUN to write! I binged the whole of She-Ra in like a week and I absolutely loved it, especially when I noticed a lot of similarities to Carry On. (I also gave Simon my alarm :)). 🐟

**Simon**

“For the honour of Grayskull!”

Honestly, I’m so glad that the incantation for this sword is short, snappy and easy to remember. Plus it sounds super badass, like a battle cry. I feel myself grow stronger, bolder and break out into a smile. This is gonna be fun.

Next to me, Penny’s flinging magic everywhere, a purple haze forming around her that matches her cloud of hair. Her cape whirls and sparkles so much that I can see why she says that it makes her feel cool to wear it. Maybe I should rethink my whole stance on capes…

“Focus, Simon!” she yells, as she takes out another bot with a kick to its weak spot, wrecking its central wiring system.

“Penny!” whines Shepard. “We’re supposed to capture the bots, not completely destroy them!”

I try to cover up the bot that I just decapitated with my sword before he can see it, but he turns around, scanning overhead for bots and squeaks “Simon!”

“Sorry,” I smile sheepishly.

“Ughhh,” groans Agatha. “This is pointless! Chosen and his sidekick here just want to blow stuff up!”

“Hey! I’m his dread companion!”

“Whatever!”

“Uhh… guys?” I look around. “Have you noticed that the bots have all…” I gulp. “Disappeared?”

“Oh brilliant!” cries Penny, throwing her hands up.

“Shhh!” Shep nocks an arrow, turning on the spot.

“You shush!” Penny whisper-shouts back.

“ _You_ shush!”

Penny opens her mouth to say something that her mother would undoubtedly disapprove of, but she’s interrupted by a humongous CRASH. The trees around us shake as the biggest bot I have ever seen stomps out into the clearing. It’s easily twice the size of the ones we’ve been fighting before and its sleek metal looks indestructible, even with my sword. But that’s not what makes my blood boil, what makes me feel stupid with rage and betrayal. No, it’s the person sitting smugly on top of it:

“ _Baz,_ ” I snarl. “I should have known.”

He smirks. “Hey, Snow.”

* * *

Of course. _Of course,_ I end up fighting Baz. My best friend for my whole life, despite the Mage constantly pitting us against one another. Well, I guess that he succeeded in making us enemies, didn’t he? But he won’t succeed in this. He’s taken away my childhood, my best friend and any worth for myself that I’ve ever felt. But I won’t let him take away the world I’ve sworn to protect, even if I have to destroy Baz to do it. Even if I have to destroy myself.

“Baz!” I yell, swinging my sword at him. He dodges and scratches me on the cheek. I cry out in pain as blood and tears streak down my face. “You don’t have to do this! You don’t have to abandon the world we love! Please, just come with me and we can save it together!”

“ _You_ abandoned _me,_ Snow! You made your choice and so did I. You chose to leave, you chose to betray me!”

“How did I betray you?”

I manage to get a hit in and knock him to the ground, but he grabs one of my ankles and kicks me over, too. He holds one of his clawed hands to my face and I flinch, not daring to move a muscle.

His breath his ragged as he says: “You betrayed me when you broke your promise. You promised you’d never leave, you promised that we would always be together. Well, look at us now.”

He looks so tired. But I have to try.

“Baz, this is bigger than us. This is about the whole world, about right and wrong. How can you be okay with this?”

“Because I have nothing else left!” he screams, and I’m shocked when a tear from his eyes falls onto my face. “You were all I had.”

His voice is so soft, I can only hear it because of how close our faces have moved together.

I let go of my sword and reach up to hold his face. “You can still have me, Baz. But only if we do what’s right.”

He leans down towards me and-

“CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE’LL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE.” My alarm blares out from my phone next to me and I startle awake.

  
 _Okay, Simon,_ I say to myself as I rub my eyes. _That’s the last time you watch She-Ra right before bed._


	11. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz revisits his trashy romance novel phase (he DEFINITELY had one).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one today. Dedicated to that very specific feeling you get when you reread a book that you used to love and think about the person who used to read it. 🐟

22nd December 2020

**Baz**

It’s 10 a.m., and I’m still in bed reading. It’s Saturday, so I’m making the most of not having to drag myself to my desk to perform whatever tedious tasks are deemed important that day. Currently, I’m rereading a romance novel that I last read when I was around 15. It’s cheesy, ridiculously over-the-top and hideously unrealistic. But I used to lap it up anyway.

If I remember correctly, I’m nearing the point where-. Yes, there it is. The first kiss. The part that everybody reads for. The scene where they throw caution to the wind and finally give in to the feelings that they’ve been harbouring for each other, caught up in passion and emotion.

I’m laughing. I can’t help it. It’s _so_ stupid and predictable and… and…

I’m hit with a memory.

I remember the first time that I read this scene, I was sitting outside with Daphne. We often sat in the garden and read our books together that summer. But in that moment, I forgot where I was and what I was doing. All I could concentrate on was that kiss. All I could concentrate on was the passion and the surprise and the tenderness, on what it was doing to the characters. On what it was doing to _me._ On the outside I was calm, perhaps mildly interested in my reading material. On the inside, my thoughts were racing, too much happening too fast until it all collided and exploded leaving only one coherent thought: That I would give anything to be kissed like that.

In the years that followed, I spent so long waiting I began to think that what I was searching for wasn’t real at all. Of course no one really kisses like that in real life! It’s a dumb book and you’re naive for thinking that anything in your stupid life could ever compare!

But then he _did_ kiss me like that. That first kiss after I told him that I loved him, I felt it. That _feeling_ . I remember smiling against his lips as I thought of it, how it had finally, _finally_ happened to me.

I reach for a pencil to underline the passage, but stop. Because it’s already been underlined, with an annotation coming off it reading: _One day._

I smile softly for my past self, then cross out the annotation because now I know what it’s like to be kissed like that. And it was most definitely worth the wait.


	12. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon finally gets to spread his wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to post yesterday, so I guess you're getting two chapters today, you lucky ducks. This one's dedicated to listening to guilty pleasure songs without guilt! If the song slaps, it slaps. Them's the rules. 🐟

**Simon**

Saturdays are the  _ best.  _ First of all, no lectures. Second, half of campus doesn’t wake up 'til the afternoon, so no one notices when a purple-haired girl sneaks under my window at 10 a.m. every week to whisper  **_“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings!”_ **

“Thanks, Pen!” I give her a thumbs up. She returns it, bell jangling before adding:

**_“I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it!”_** and scurrying away. She likes to pretend that she’s undercover. I guess she is, in a way.

I revel in the feeling of my wings shooting from my shoulder blades and flop down face-first onto my bed, the cool morning air settling over my bare back. My tail pokes out over the waistband of my pyjama bottoms. I don’t really  _ do _ much on Saturdays when I’m like this, just kind of lie there and enjoy feeling whole again.

I don’t remember when I started to think of my wings and tail as a part of me. After America, I used to get Penny to spell them off all the time, wanting to go out and explore the world like I couldn’t before. But soon I started to miss them, the weight on my back and the twitch of my tail. Plus, they’re the only connection to my magic that I have left. Now, Penny and I have a deal: once a week, she’ll spell them on for a day so I can just exist with them for a while. Then, in the evening she’ll come back and spell them off again. (She’s managed to make the spell strong enough to last a week now).

I bury my face in my crossed arms, thinking of a couple of days when I can be like this all the time, with Baz. I smile into my arms, wondering if he’s thinking about me…

Meanwhile, I reach for my phone and put on a song that I would  _ never _ listen to in front of Baz. That, and Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas, which happens to be my favourite guilty pleasure Christmas song. It’s just so  _ romantic, _ but he’d think me a sap for saying that. (He’d be right).

In the meantime, I put in my headphones, lie back down and mouth along with the words of my 2nd favourite guilty pleasure song:

_ “Mama told me not to waste my life, _

_ She said spread your wings my little butterfly…” _


	13. Below the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River takes Baz to a scenic spot for some head-clearing. Rivarnie forever. ❤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd chapter of the day for all you lovely people. I don't know how The Beast from the East became a character, but here we are. 🐟

**Baz**

I’m walking through the forest when I see River again. Well, actually I  _ feel _ them before I see them because they seem to find it amusing to turn into a robin and then land upon my head. I flap my arms around, trying to work out what it is that’s attacking me. When I look down, they’re pixie-like again, lying on the leaves and giggling.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” I offer a hand to help them up.

“A man as poised as you, flapping his arms around? Always.”

We walk for a few moments in a direction I’ve never been in before (I was banned from many parts of the woods as a child and by the time I was old enough to go in them, I didn’t much care for exploring anymore).

“So you worked out why I’m here, then?” asks River.

“Yes,” I smile.

“Are you excited?”

“Sometimes. More often I’m nervous now.”

They affectionately nudge me sideways “Come on, I’ve got something to help you take your mind off it.”

I freeze, panicked. “Why do you want to take my mind off it? Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“No, I just know that no matter what happens, everything will change. I’ve hung around here for five years while this place changes in magic levels. I was just about to leave, actually. Now that it’s all back. See some new sights. But then, I felt this  _ pull  _ telling me to stay.”

“That sounds… confining. Only being able to go where there’s change.”

“Oh, change is everywhere nowadays. I love watching it happen.” They transform into a human and wink. “Especially what you have planned.”

Before I can say anything else, they put an arm in front of me. “We’re here.”

I gasp. There’s a huge, beautiful sparkling lake surrounded by red and brown trees. The winter sun shines weakly onto it, and there’s a sudden quiet inside me, like the aftermath of a storm. I almost don’t want to breathe and disturb it. It shouldn’t be possible, but the lake’s completely frozen.

“How?” I ask River.

“Look below the surface.”

I kneel carefully on the ground at the edge and place my palm on the lake’s surface. It’s rougher than it looks and I take in the rare sensation of touching something that’s colder than my skin. Below my hand is what looks like a snowstorm, frozen below the lake. Windless flurries and flakes of snow crowd the space, looking like they’re about to erupt upwards. I still don’t understand how this lake is frozen in this climate. It hasn’t snowed here since…

“The Beast from the East?”

“As you call it. I just call him Arnie.” They reach down and stroke the surface next to where my hand is.  _ “He hates it,”  _ they murmur.

I snort. “The Beast from the East is called  _ Arnie? _ ”

“Short for Arnold.”

“Of course it is.”

We sit in silence like I haven’t known for a long time. I love my family, but recently the house feels so  _ full  _ (and that’s saying something). I like the quiet company of River and Arnie. It feels almost like solitude, something I’ve been craving for a while.

After nearly half an hour, I stand. “I should be getting back, or else they’ll worry. You know, after what happened when you first got here.”

We both know that River arrived with the Humdrum, but we’ve never discussed it. I hold my hand out. “Are you coming?”

They shake their head absently, fingertips still brushing the lake’s surface. “I’m going to stay here a while. You go back. I’ll see you around.” Their eyes stay fixed on the horizon.

“Okay, goodbye then.”

“Goodbye, Baz.”

I set off, but turn around when I reach the junction. River’s still sitting there, unmoving. Their hand still hasn’t left the lake’s surface.


	14. Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz goes indoor stargazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I still have glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, what of it?  
> I've also made a playlist for this fic! Songs of the day are: Fireflies by Owl City, Starman by David Bowie and Counting Stars by One Republic.  
> Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/767bbCHlfpPker77mCDyEM?si=0ZvcRmZXS4q2GeCJCQXBfA  
> -🐟

**Baz**

I lie on my back, tracing the constellations of plastic glow-in-the-dark stars above me without touching them. Simon got these as a surprise for our anniversary last year. He spent all day here while I was out, sticking them randomly on the ceiling above the bed (he couldn’t reach anywhere else; the ceilings are too high). He said later that he figured that the “posh newspaper people” wouldn’t bother to look up when they came around every year.

I kind of like that. That the evidence of us here is hidden in plain sight. It was so hidden that I didn’t even notice at first. I was reaching over Simon to turn off the light but he grabbed my arm, whispering “Let me.”

He pushed me gently onto my back so that I saw the moment that the galaxy burst into life above my head. I remember actually gasping out loud, it was so beautiful. He’d somehow managed to cram a whole world into my room. A world for  _ us. _

“I figured that I’d let you look at the stars for a bit longer this time,” he murmured into my shoulder.

_ Do you want me to pull back? _

_ No, I want to look at the stars. _

I could have cried. I loved this fake, plastic, breathtaking world so much. And I can visit it whenever I want.

The real stars were there for so many of our moments. When he shared some of his magic with me and we made the walls of our room, the walls between us, disappear for just a moment. When we were in the back of a truck driving through the desert in America, and we were together again for the first time after so long for just a moment.

But these stars, these have stayed.  _ He’s _ stayed. He’s finally stopped running from what he is, stopped focussing on what he was. And I know that him doing this for me means that he wants to stop just having moments. He wants something as permanent as the stars that have surrounded us from day one.

The moments under these stars make me smile. Making up constellation names for the random dots spread before us. Panicking when one fell off right onto my face and then laughing about it. Helping him stick up the ones he’d missed in the dark, giggling when we tried to stick them to each other without the other noticing. Simon thinking that it would be romantic to try and waltz under them, then quickly losing our footing on the bed and tumbling down, breathlessly laughing and kissing.

I’m still smiling when I fall asleep.


	15. Hurt/Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz helps Simon with his blip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mental health issues. Simon is seen as being in a bad mental state.  
> An angsty one this week. Dedicated to those we can talk to when things feel too much. Songs of the day are You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen and Battle Scars (Acoustic) by Paradise Fears  
> -🐟

**Simon**

22:00

It’s getting worse. What started off as a small mental health blip has turned into a full day of me lying in bed, unable to move. Everything’s too much today. I know, I _know_ that I need to study if I want to have a proper break this week but even the smallest task is overwhelming. I tried doing what my therapist said, focussing on getting one thing done at a time.

_Earlier that day..._

12:00

 _Okay, Simon,_ I think. _Just have a shower. That always makes you feel better once your wings have gone._ But that would mean picking out clothes and I don’t know which ones are in the wardrobe and which ones are in my laundry basket and do I need to wash my hair or not? I can never usually tell until after I’ve gotten out of the shower and now it’s 11 past the hour so I’ve got to wait until half past.

12:41

Half past came and went and I still hadn’t moved, wrapping my blanket tighter around me.

14:05

 _Okay, then. Start work in the afternoon. At least get up and have some lunch._ But what do I make? Cooking seems like too much at the moment and I don’t have anything that I can just pick up and eat. I’ll just have a big dinner later.

17:51

I see the light that was peaking through the curtains disappear. There are people outside, heading up to one last illegal house party before going home. They managed to get up, why can’t I? It’s around dinner time right now. I should get up and make it, I’m starving. But everyone else will probably also be downstairs making dinner. I’ll have to make conversation, act like I’m fine, pretend that I’m okay with the fact that I’ve done nothing today, that I’m just “taking some me time.” I’ll have to pretend that today was a choice. I roll over onto my other side, facing the wall. Stupid, blank wall.

19:23

I hate this.

20:14

I’ve failed today. I don’t know how I’m going to do this for another day tomorrow.

20:49

Why are you like this, Simon?

21:07

Simon?

21:51

Simon?

_Later..._

23:00

I’m losing myself. I’ve spent tooo many hours in this room. I need something else to hold onto.

…

Baz!

I grab the phone and call him, the light making my eyes hurt. I usually text first, but I he won’t reply to that if he’s asleep already.

“Hello?”

“Hi Baz.”

“Is everything alright, Simon?” He sounds groggy.

“I… no, not really. Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I can only just have drifted off. What’s going on?”

“I’m having a blip. A bad one.” My voice hitches on the last word. I realise that this is the first time I’ve properly spoken today. My breath starts heaving and tears spill from my eyes at saying it out loud.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay love.” Usually his hand strokes my hair when he says this. My hand’s fisted in it. I let go and touch the back of my neck instead. Apparently that’s meant to be calming or something. I’m still shaking, though. “Have you had anything to eat today?” he asks.

“No,” I sob. “I just can’t today, Baz. I was going to, but then I heard people downstairs and I…” I break off, crying harder, trying cover the sound with my hand. “...I just can’t.”

“Simon, listen to me,” he says, his voice gentle. I put my hand on my knee, try to focus on it. “It’s 11 o’clock at night, so there’s probably no one in the kitchen now, correct?”

I nod, then realise he can’t see me. I can never do video call when I’m like this. “Yeah.”

“Do you still have the emergency soup?”

“Yeah.” Emergency soup is for when I can cook on top of everything else. I always have a can in the cupboard.

“How about you could make some soup and then get some sleep? Then you’ve only got one more day to get through before you come home. Do you think you could do that?”

I don’t know. But, “I’ll try.”

“There you go, love. That’s all you have to do. You’re doing so well, Simon.”

“Thanks, Baz.” I’m getting tearful again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon. Not long to go now.”

“Yeah, see you soon. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Simon.”

He hangs up and I put the phone down next to me. Then, I manage to stand. I take a step.

And another.

I eat the soup, and fall asleep.


	16. Meme/Crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz receives an education in Tumblr memes 101 in order to avoid getting Rickrolled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alerts for The Rise of Skywalker, She-Ra and Supernatural (but come on, we all remember November 5th).  
> It is 1 a.m. and I don't know what I just typed. Dedicated to the crazy stuff we came up with this year.  
> Song of the day is Never Gonna Give You Up. 🐟

**Baz**

I’m surrounded by darkness. I can’t see my hands when I hold them up in front of me and when I kick my feet out in front of where I’m sitting, they only come into contact with air. Then I feel a pulsing coming from the floor below me, the kind that comes from music that’s being played so loudly it feels like it’s ripping through you.

Wait.

I know that music. Oh no. I’ve heard that too many times this year. A feeling of shame overtakes me.

Then, a spotlight blinds me from above and I start moving towards it. Am I dying? Is this what hell is? Oh no, am I in Illinois?

I emerge from the darkness into a room filled with hundreds of strobe lights, showing shadowy figures at the edges and a man on the stage opposite me in a robin hood outfit.

The lyrics from the song drift over the roar of the audience.

_I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling._

A voice booms over the music. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO…”

_Gotta make you understand._

“YOU’VE BEEN RICKROLLED!”

The audience alternates between singing along to the chorus and screaming their approval, stamping and clapping while I sit in the chair, dazed.

As the strobing stops, the man turns to face me. No, not the man. The _Mage._ “Tonight on our 2020 end of year special, Baz from Hampshire will try to wow us with his meme knowledge and avoid hearing that special song that we all prank each other with now for some reason!”

The audience cheers again.

“Now, Baz. Tell us a bit about yourself.”

_Oh, Merlin._ “Well, I, um, I work in finance and I enjoy… football?”

Crowley, they wouldn’t pull this nonsense on _University Challenge._

“A sportsman _and_ intelligent! Let’s hope those brains will be good enough to give Rick the slip!”

I wonder if one of these studio lights fell down, would it kill me? It would injure me enough to warrant a hospital visit, surely.

“Now, you know the rules and so do I, but here'sa quick reminder. I’m going to give you a question and the three possible answers will be on one of these doors.”

His arm sweeps to a lower part of the stage, where three doors with the letters A, B and C drawn on them in the meme font stand. The audience makes “ooooh” noises.

“All you have to do,” says the Mage, “is select the door with the right answer! If you do, there’ll be £50 sitting there just for you! But if you select a wrong door…”

He pauses dramatically.

“...you’ll get Rickrolled!”

I try to keep my face calm while my insides start screaming.

“So as always, don’t be thick…”

“...AVOID THE RICK!” yells the audience. What did I do to deserve this?

“We know the game and we're gonna play it! Question one.” intones the Mage, suddenly serious.

“Which ship was the most popular ship of 2020, according to this year’s Tumblr in review?”

_Ship? Tumblr?_

“Is it A - Drarry, B - Reylo or C - Catradora?”

A picture of a couple appears on each of the doors as he reads out the answers. There’s one of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, who I remember people talking about at school but knowing the internet, probably weren’t popular this year. I think the middle one’s from Star Wars? I remember Dev being really mad about the couple that got together in the last one so this could be them. Not popular if they are. The last one’s from that show Simon’s watching. If he’s watching it now they must be pretty recent.

“I’m going to go with… C?”

“Let’s _see_ ,” he winks, “if you’re right!”

I’m ushered to my feet and I walk across the stage to door C. My heart is in my throat as I slowly pull the door open.

I gasp. _“Shepard?”_

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts a microphone to his mouth as the dreaded intro begins.

“YOU’VE BEEN RICKROLLED!” yells the audience. It’s all I can do not to cry.

* * *

And so it continues. It turns out that I know nothing about among us, have no idea what Bernie Sanders is “once again asking" for, and am unable to identify what a stick bug looks like. Each time, I am assaulted with the torture of one of my loved ones serenading me with all three minutes and thirty-three seconds of Never Gonna Give You Up.

But the worst moment comes when I open a door marked “English” (the question was about another “ship” I think? I went with English, seeing as this is an English-speaking show) to reveal…

“Oh no, Simon,” I whisper, choking back tears. “Not you too.”

The Mage speaks over the intro, ignoring my pain. “I’m sorry, Baz. Although Cas told Dean that he loved him in the original English version, Dean didn’t say it back until the _Spanish_ dub was released _._ ”

Half of my brain is screaming _what? The story is different in different languages?_ The other half is just screaming as Simon lifts his microphone to his lips and-.

“I WANT TO BREAK FREE!”

I open my eyes. It was all a horrible nightmare. And now I’m listening to the sweet, sweet voice of Freddie Mercury. I will forever be thankful for him. And the fact that all the absurd answers to those ridiculous questions are made up. That would be bonkers!


	17. Blanket Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon creates a new (very grown-up) study space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's have a calm one after yesterday's absurdity, yeah? This one's dedicated to baby steps and the blanket fort that I built and then wrote this chapter in. She is beautiful. Song of the day is I'll Be OK by Mc Fly. 🐟

23rd December 2020

**Simon**

_Thanks for last night. Managed to eat the soup and get some sleep. Doing much better today. Xx_

I shoot the text off to Baz and survey the room. I tidied it this morning after having a shower and getting dressed. I didn’t manage breakfast, but I’m taking baby steps. I’ve been, I dunno, stuck in the same boring routine for a while now. And I hate it so much that I didn’t want to do any of it yesterday. This problem’s come up before, back when lockdown first started.

“Change it up a little,” my therapist advised. “Just change small things, like walking a different way to somewhere you know regularly or making something new for dinner. Show yourself that this routine that you’re in doesn’t control you.”

I’ve never been a fan of routine. Obviously at Watford, every day was unpredictable so I guess it’s just an alien concept. Penny and Baz are routine people, that’s just who they are. I thought it might make me feel more productive or something, but it’s done the opposite. So, I’m changing it up. The only question is, how?

I suppose I could start studying somewhere different. I’m starting to hate my desk with its too-bright desk light anyway. But where? If I study on the bed, I’ll definitely fall asleep. There are so many blankets and cushions and _wait._ I have an idea.

* * *

This is possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever made. My chair and my bed are the perfect height to string my fluffy blanket across with enough space for an entrance and a back wall. I use some textbooks to keep the edges down, then crawl in with my laptop in hand. My head brushes the ceiling as I lean back against the pillow that I’ve propped against the side of the bed. I’ve put some cushions under the chair and I put my feet upon them. Oh yeah. This is the life.

I text a picture to Baz, with the caption _Professional workplace._ After an hour of studying, I get a reply: _Very grown up! Glad things are better today and I can’t wait to see you TOMORROW! X_

_TOMORROW!! Did you manage to sleep alright?_

_Yes, but I had the strangest dream._

_TELL ME MORE!_

_This is a long story so bear with me._

_Ok_

_So I’m sitting in the dark..._

Next thing I know, I’m laughing out loud at Baz’s weird dream that I’m worried the fort will collapse. Then I’m laughing even more when I explain to him what all the memes mean and I try to picture how confused he must look right now. I’m definitely teasing him about this tomorrow. This time tomorrow, I’ll be on a train on the way to see my boyfriend. For the first time in four months. Things really are looking up, the less time that I have to hold on for. In the meantime, a blanket fort isn’t the worst way to cope.


	18. Side Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What really happened between River and Arnie, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... originally I was gonna do DeNiall or maybe Ebb and Fiona but they are simply Not Here so here's a side ship between two characters not even in Carry On! But they're a side ship in my Carry On fic? Hope this counts because I've been dying to tell these two's story ever since River crashed into my head a week and a half ago. Dedicated to chasing the ones we love. Keep chasing. Song of the Day is Stay Right Where You Are by Ingrid Michaelson. 🐟

**River**

He’s cold. He’s always so cold nowadays. I sit down in my usual spot at the lakeside, touching a hand to the same place on the surface. Even though I always touch it in the same place, I never leave a handprint. My presence here is only temporary. Serves me right, I guess. It’s what I said I always wanted.

Back then, I always wanted to leave and he was always begging me to stay.

“There’s a whole world out there, Arnie.” I’d plead, tugging at his hand (if he happened to have hands that day).

“We’ve got a whole world right here,” he’d reply. “And my name’s Arnold.” Then he shifted into a flower, a tree, a whole forest for me. We’d spend our days like that: find an open space and shift into whatever we wanted. I’d turn into fairies and woodland creatures and birds with beautiful wings. He’d be the sunlight streaming through my hair, the leaves that ticked my arms, the wind that helped me to fly. He was strong, gentle and passionate to a fault. He was always more powerful than I will ever be. But that was alright because we were together and we were in love.

Until we weren’t. Together, I mean. I’ll always love him. But that night, I felt a change. A  _ pull. _

“Don’t you feel it, Arnie? It’s coming! It’s coming and I’m going to be there!”

“What are you talking about, River? Why are you always chasing this… this  _ thing _ that you know will never stay with you? I’ll always stay with you! I’m right here in front of you! Is that not enough anymore?” There were tears in his emerald eyes. It was the last time I saw them like that.

“How can this be enough for  _ you _ ? We could do whatever we want, but you just want to hide here rather than going out and seeing change, real change! Not the temporary, shifting kind but something stronger, something that actually  _ means-. _ ”

I cut off at the look on his face. “Arnie, I-”

“If that’s how you feel,” his voice was shaking.  _ He _ was shaking, shifting, losing control. “Then go.”

“Arnie-”

“GO!” The word was a roar, a storm, something I’d never seen him do before. I knew I’d lost him when I saw the lightning. He’d sworn he’d never do lightning.

_ “It’s there, and then it’s gone. Who wants that?” _

I was there and then I was gone. I guess we both broke promises that day.

Two and a half years later, he came looking for me. I’d tried to stay at the same place where the change happened, just… just in case. He was still so angry, but the anger had cooled down over time into snow. Lots and lots of snow, the likes of which hadn’t been seen for years. The mages saw him as a danger to be contained. They called him a beast. I followed their magic to the centre of the forest, just in time to see him get frozen in form.

They say you don’t feel any pain, getting frozen. They say you don’t feel anything at all. Your senses dim slowly into nothing and you lose yourself. I heard his voice, like the moaning calling of the wind, fade away to nothing. He was saying something, I think. It sounded like  _ “I wish I had…” _

“What, Arnie?” I yell now. “What did you wish for before you became paralysed because you came looking for me, you idiot? Me, who followed a foolish trail leading nowhere without leaving breadcrumbs to guide me home? Can you hear me? ANSWER ME!”

I slam my fist into the ice but still,  _ still,  _ it leaves no lasting mark.

It’s there, and then it’s gone. I’m there, and then I’m gone. He’s there, and then he’s gone.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry."


	19. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz's depressing taste in music also extends to Christmas songs, obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to properly meet Arnie! Dedicated to wishes. Song of the day is River by Joni Mitchell. 🐟

**Baz**

I’m walking through the forest with River again and we’re listening to music.

“Why are all these songs so  _ depressing? _ ” he asks.

“They’re not depressing, they’re meaningful. Everybody knows that the best art comes from a place of pain.”

“Why are love songs so popular then?” I swear his eyes actually, literally  _ sparkle _ when he says this.

“Because everybody is also stupid.” We bust out laughing, I’m glad to see them like this. I know that there’s definitely something going on with them; there’s a sadness eating at his edges. I also have a strong suspicion that it has something to do with Arnie. “River?”

“Yes?”

I need to be careful here. “How do you know that Arnie’s still in there? How do you know that his senses haven’t completely frozen?”

He lets out a long sigh and I worry that I’ve said the wrong thing. But then they look up at the crisscrossing network of branches and begin to speak.

“Theoretically, he shouldn’t still be there. He should have transformed permanently into that form by now. But he was the most powerful shifter that I’d ever seen. And sometimes, when I’m by the lake, I think I can  _ feel  _ him. I can feel him fighting, or trying to reach out to me? I don’t know.”

They shake their head and smile. “Sometimes I’ll talk to him, to try and reach back. I’ll tell him about my day, little things that are going on.”

“I take it you’ve told him about me, then?”

“Yes. He would be so excited to meet you, I think. You’re very similar. He liked depressing music too.”

I chuckle softly at that.

“Why don’t you put on a Christmas song? Please? For me?” He links his arms behind his back and blinks up at me.

“Okay, fine.”

They want a Christmas song? I’m putting on a morbid one. The opening piano of Joni Mitchell’s River drifts through the trees.

“What’s this?”

“You share a name,” I smirk.

They smile, then his face freezes at the mention of his name:

_ “Oh, I wish I had a river _

_ I could skate away on.” _

“I wish I had a river,” they whisper, as if in realisation.

“Is… everything ok?” I ask.

“I have to go.” They’ve gone pale, I don’t know if it’s intentional. Then they ran without any further explanation.

  
  
  


**River**

I skid to a stop at the lakeside, breathing hard. Settling in my usual cross-legged position, I try to slow it down. Then I start to sing:

_ “It's coming on Christmas _

_ They're cutting down trees _

_ They're putting up reindeer _

_ And singing songs of joy and peace _

_ Oh, I wish I had a river _

_ I could skate away on.” _

I pause.

“That’s what you wished for, isn’t it Arnie? You wanted to leave, too. We could’ve gone together, you idiot! Why didn’t you skate away with  _ me? _ ”

Then I feel it below my hand: a crack. It grows and the ground starts to tremble, then rumble. I stand up, then stand back, hardly bearing to wish, to  _ hope… _

He bursts from the surface, and he’s amazing and incredible and just as I remember. He’s a whirling flurry, a force of nature and I realise with horror, very, very angry.

The same moaning roar that I’ve dreamt and thought about for years pierces the air.

“I wished for you, River! I wished for you, and you  _ left.  _ And you  _ still don’t understand. _ I want us together, but I want us to stay! Well, this time  _ I’m  _ going to be the one to leave, so I can’t watch you walk away and break my heart again.”

The roaring gets louder until it’s deafening and I’m forced to cling to the tree next to me to avoid getting swept up in it. A tear rips from the frozen skin of my face as, in a cloud of wind and snow and pain, he flies away.


	20. Technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz have one last video call ahead of their big reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! No chapters yesterday, so two are coming up today. Here is a chapter dedicated to the video calls that let us see those we love, even when apart. Song of the day is Underneath the Tree by Kelly Clarkson because I am feeling the Christmas HYPE (and so are Simon and Baz!) 🐟

**Simon**

“...and then they ran away,” finishes Baz.

“Odd,” I reply. “Are they gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure all is fine. Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s Mordelia. She’s dealing with some… feelings that she’s been having.” On the screen, he looks nervous, those infernal eyebrows knitted together.

“What kind of feelings?” Though, I think I can already guess.

“Feelings, well  _ potential _ feelings I guess, towards girls. She came to me to discuss it, but I feel like I wasn’t very helpful, having always been quite certain of myself in that sense.”

“You didn’t have an ‘oh wait a minute’ moment.”

“No,” he laughs.

“But I did.”

“Exactly. And I know you’re still not labelling yourself, so I thought it would be helpful for you to maybe talk to her? I want her to know that you don’t have to label yourself and even if she wants to, she doesn’t have to rush into it.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to do that. If you give me her number I could add her on Whatsapp?”

“Perfect, I’ll send it over now.” His picture blurs and a message pops up saying  _ Baz’s video paused _ , followed by a notification with a message from him containing a shared contact. The video unfreezes and he smiles at me. “I’m glad she’s got you to talk to about this; she doesn’t have to struggle through by herself as we did.”

“Yeah,” I grin back. “She’s lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Well, we both know what an angel I am, Snow.” He winks and we both laugh, but the time delay makes it look like we laugh one at a time. It reminds me again that he’s not really here with me in this blanket fort (yes, I’m still sitting in it.) (It’s comfy!) It reminds me again how little time there is until we  _ are  _ next to each other and I can feel his laughter against me instead of just hearing it.

I know it’s clichéd, but I know that what will make this Christmas special this year will be  _ him.  _ Us. We could have no presents, no Christmas tree, no singing and this Christmas would still be perfect because at least we’d finally be together again. Hell’s spells, we could celebrate Christmas  _ here  _ and it would still be brilliant. Although, the food is  _ way _ better at his place. (Having no food would actually ruin Christmas, cute boyfriends be damned.) (I’m joking.) (Mostly.)

“Well Baz, I have to tell you that you are much more angelic in person. Your pixelated self just doesn’t have the bone structure.” What am I saying?

“Bone structure doth not an angel make, Simon. We’ve been through this.”

I just nod and laugh. I find I do that a lot over video call. Sure, it’s always easy to talk to Baz, but it’s always easier in person. I think he can see it. I love him, but staring at the screen for too long melts my eyes and my energy supplies.

“Well,” he says, “I’d better go and tell Mordelia to expect a call from you at some point.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow!” It feels so brilliant to finally be able to say that.

“See you tomorrow, darling. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”


	21. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more sleep until Simon comes home and Baz can't wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, me again. I think it's time for some fluff for our second chapter of the day. Can't believe we're three weeks in! Dedicated to quiet moments. Song of the day is One More Sleep by Leona Lewis. 🐟

**Baz**

Once I’m done talking with Mordelia (she is  _ far _ too excited at the prospect of having Simon’s number. She definitely likes him better than me), I settle back in front of the fire with my book. She’s in the kitchen doing her chores (Vera’s on holiday), singing along loudly to the radio. It’s that song about having one more sleep until the one that you love comes home for Christmas. Seems appropriate.

Hearing that song makes me think of Simon again. It’s absurd; I only came off the call with him an hour ago and yet he’s filling up space in my head again. It’s like the thought of him’s always there, it just gets put on pause whenever I become distracted and picks up where it left off the moment I return. Crowley, I’m smitten. But so is he. I go back to my book.

* * *

I never can get comfortable when I’m reading. I keep finding myself leaning back too much, forgetting that it’s not Simon I’m leaning against but rather the significantly less sturdy arm of the sofa. We’d often be like this in the evenings, Simon and I. When we’d grown comfortable with one another and we settled into more and more ambient, in-between moments. That may sound terribly predictable and probably dull, but honestly after all we’ve been through I think that’s what we both need from one another. A little predictability is underrated, in my opinion.

We’d often settle sideways onto the sofa, shoes off and a blanket covering us. I’d read and lean back into him, his arms wrapping around my waist, his breath in my hair. At first, I found it distracting, but now I find myself craving his softness, his sturdiness, his warmth. I don’t think I’ve felt properly warm in months. No matter how much blood I drink, no matter how many extra logs I put on the fire, no matter how many blankets I pile on top of me, it’s not the same.

Sometimes, if I imagine hard enough, I can tip my head back and hear him laugh softly into my hair.  _ I’m taller than you now, _ he’ll tease, before leaning down to kiss my forehead. The ghost of his arms will wrap around my waist and I’ll try to make my nose remember his brown, sweet scent. But I won’t have to make myself remember soon because he’ll be here, embracing me in his warmth.

_ Because it’s one more sleep. _


	22. Unlikely Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordelia has some important Simon-related information for Baz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Simon and Mordelia have a great friendship once she grows up. Dedicated to the sibling that steals all your friends' attention (but you love them anyway). Song of the day is We Are Not Alone by Karla Devito. Simon and Mordy have definitely rocked out to this while Baz looked on in mock disapproval. 🐟

**Baz**

Mordelia and Simon have been on the phone for hours now. I didn’t think that they were going to call tonight, what with Simon having already done one video call today. But he’s always dropped everything to help others, hasn’t he?

I hear Mordelia laugh and I’m glad. It’s good to hear her happy, even if she is going through something right now. Plus, she’s always loved Simon whenever he’s come around. She was always pandering after him when she was little, following him around and asking him ridiculous questions about his wings and gazing up at him in fascination. He has that effect on us, I guess. I used to tease them both about it.

“How come,” I’d say, picking up Mordelia and spinning her around, “whenever I bring people home, they always prefer my siblings to me?”

“Because you’re a meanie, Basil!” she’d giggle back. “And Simon is nice. He’s my  _ favourite  _ brother!”

“She’s got a point, you know,” Simon would smirk. “I guess you’ll just have to step up to my level.”

“That’s it, tickles for both of you!”

I’m glad she’s matured enough now that they can actually be friends. I thought it unlikely, at first. She was always such a little firecracker that I thought that he might find her exhausting to deal with in the state he was in after Watford. Then again, he  _ is _ best friends with Penelope Bunce. And I think being around her brought something out in him. An instinct to protect, but a healthier one than before. She was always the one pulling him off the sofa to play yet another game of tag.

My memory is interrupted by the grown Mordelia entering the room and stomping her Doc Martens over to my desk. I look up at her.

“Hi, Baz.” She’s smiling as she leans against the side of the desk.

“Hello, Mordy. Did you two have a good talk?”

“Yeah, I… he helped a lot. I mean, I’m 12 and he didn’t realise until he was 18. So I guess it made me realise that there really isn’t a timeline? I know everyone says that, but hearing it from him… I guess I actually believe that now. So I know I don’t have to worry.”

“That’s great,” I smile and I mean it. I’m really happy for her. “So…” I raise an eyebrow. “Do you have anything else to tell me?”

“Oh. Yes. Simon’s favourite Christmas song is All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey.”

Of course it is. The romantic sap.

“Perfect.”

“Baz, why are you making, as Simon would say, your plotting face?”

“You’ll see.”

She rolls her eyes. “Meanie.”


	23. Cooking/Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's baked cookies ready for THE BIG REUNION!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are finally together again! Hooray! Dedicated to the many reunions to come post-lockdown. Songs of the day from Simon's travelling playlist: On My Way by Phil Collins, Driving Home for Christmas by Chris Rea and Almost Home by Keston Cobblers Club. Also Here You Come Again by Dolly Parton for Baz because that boy is SWOONING. 🐟

24th December 2020

**Simon**

I put biscuits in the Tupperware tub and double-check that the lid’s on properly. These containers came from various takeaway places and everyone knows how impossible it is to find a lid matching the container, but I think I’ve done it properly this time. I do  _ not _ want a repeat of the cheesecake incident.

I didn’t have a cutter, so I had to use my hands to shape them but honestly, I’m pretty proud of how these biscuits have turned out. Baz’s family knows that I don’t have much money-wise, so they never ask for presents. I always like to make them something anyway. It’s the least I can do after they’ve welcomed me into their family. Plus, it helps to get me into the Christmas spirit.

I gather up the last of my things and take one final look around the kitchen. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I put my headphones in and cue up my travelling playlist. Almost Home by Keston Cobblers Club comes on.  _ Yeah _ , I think.  _ I’m almost home. _

**Baz**

I’m restless. I’ve been what could almost be described as running around the house, casting spells to put new flowers in vases, straightening furniture, making sure that we have enough logs for the fire. I even volunteered to help make the shepherd's pie, just to make sure it was  _ exactly _ like the one from five years ago but I was waved out of the kitchen. Apparently, I have a certain reputation when it comes to cooking. (“Casting  **_some like it hot_ ** doesn’t count as cooking, Basil.”)

Now I’m getting increasingly bored as I pace in front of the fire in the lounge. It’s all terribly Austin. I just want everything to go well today. I’m seeing Simon for the first time in four months. He’s going to be here, in person. I’ll be able to see his face in clear, unpixelated lines. I’ll be able to trace those lines with my hand and once again remember what that feels like. It’s been so long. In my mind I can remember, but my skin can no longer recall the feeling.

My hands twitch at my sides and I sit on the couch, only to immediately stand up and start pacing again as my stomach leaps, no  _ lurches. _ Because today isn’t just the day Simon comes home. Today isn’t just Christmas Eve or even just the day of our anniversary. Today is the day of the change. I don’t know if I’m more nervous or excited, but I know that nothing’s going to be the same after this.

**Simon**

_ Tell everybody I’m on my way, _

_ And I just can’t wait to be home. _

I nod along to the music and wish that I could eat a biscuit. Usually, I would sneak one in before I got there (I  _ did _ make them), but I don’t want to take my mask off. If anything, the effort of not eating a biscuit is making me  _ more _ hungry. When I get to Baz’s house, I’m going to make a pig of myself. I’ve earned it, though. Thinking about the feast awaiting me there isn’t helping my problem, so I think about Baz instead. He’s the most distracting thing I know of (I may have accidentally told him that once. Went right to his head.)

I think about he’ll just be  _ there. _ Occupying the same space as me. I think about how whenever I think about touching him or kissing him, I’ll just be able to  _ do _ it. It’s incredible, really, how much I took for granted before. Being able to see him wake up in the morning, leaning against him when I felt tired, even just seeing the real colour of his eyes. The phone screen doesn’t do him justice.

No one can see with the mask, so I grin widely, hugging my bag closer to me. I ignore the fact that the smell of biscuits is also closer.

**Baz**

I’m still pacing when the doorbell rings. At that moment, I immediately abandon any sense of composure that I may have been exuding and sprint down the stairs.

“I’ll get it!” I yell. I think everyone already knew that anyway, given that I’ve been waiting near the door for the past two hours.

I cross the hall and grab the door handle, turning it with shaking hands.

And there he is.

I forgot what a wonderful, ordinary shade of blue his eyes were. The phone screen obscured the exact arrangement of the scattering of freckles around his face. And I couldn’t even see the ones on his hands. I try to memorise the ones on his knuckles as he grips his bag, but then remember that I don’t have to because he’s  _ here  _ now. But the thing I forgot about most of all was how all these things make me feel. I can feel myself sinking into that feeling all over again. It feels like more than love.

It feels like  _ home. _

I kiss him before either of us can say anything.


	24. Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz gives Simon his Christmas present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GOOOO! This is THE chapter I've been wanting to write from the beginning. It's cheesy, fluffy and frankly quite ridiculous but honestly, it's what I needed after this year. Dedicated to big gestures and show-stopping moments. Song of the day is All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey. BLAST IT! 🐟

**Simon**

I’m sitting on the sofa. Both of my hands cradle both of Baz’s and my head is buried in his shoulder. I keep deciding that I want to pull back and drink in the sight of him, then realising that actually, I want to be as close to him as possible. When I inhale, I can smell his posh scent: cedar and bergamot, like always. I never thought I’d miss that scent, but I did. I missed every part of him.

Baz clears his throat and I sit up to look at him. We haven’t actually said much to each other yet. First of all, because we were too busy kissing and then because we were too busy crying (and then kissing again.) “Can you believe it’s been five years?”

“Five mad years.”

“And this one wasn’t even the strangest!” He laughs, softly. “We are… so different from how we were back then. We’ve both grown, we’re both stronger. And I know I am because you were there by my side. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here right now.”

I squeeze his hands.

“So, Simon, I’ve got something to say to you.”

The opening chimes of a very familiar Christmas song fill the room. Then Baz opens his mouth and sings:

_“I don’t want a lot for Christmas.”_

Aleister. Fucking. Crowley.

_“There is just one thing I need.”_

What is happening right now?

_“I don’t care about the presents,_

_Underneath the Christmas tree.”_

He’s standing up.

_“I just want you for my own.”_

What in Merlin’s name is he doing?

_“More than you could ever know.”_

He gets down on one knee and pulls a box out from his pocket.

_“Make my wish come true.”_

_Oh._

_“All I want for Christmas is…”_

He opens the box to reveal a ring.

_“You.”_

The music pauses and the only sound is our ragged breathing.

“Well?” he asks, voice shaking. “Will you marry me?”

**Baz**

“Yes,” he breathes and we’re caught up in arms and tears and kisses all over again. When we have a moment, I slip the ring onto his finger.

“It’s spelled,” I say, still hardly able to speak, “so that in years to come, in whatever worlds we exist in, we’ll always be bound together.”

He cries harder at that.

“Is that ok? I know you don’t have your magic anymore, I can undo it if-”

“Baz, it’s perfect. Being a part of your magic? It’s- it’s perfect.”

“And I know that we’re both so young and-”

“I already said yes, you idiot!”

“I know, I know. Just… making sure.”

He pulls me in for another kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

"Baz?" he whispers between kisses.

"Mmm?"

"Are we gonna sing the rest of the song, then?"

* * *

Later that day, Mordelia showed me the picture for the album. It’s of me and Simon on the sofa. Our eyes are still wet, and we’re grinning at each other. His ringed hand holds mine up between our faces. Just like how we were when we first said I love you. I added to the caption underneath. It now says: _Simon and Baz, Christmas 2020._

_The day everything changed._


	25. Parallel Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River reflects on Snowbaz being canon and how wonderful that is. (STILL not over it!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today. Dedicated to fanfic writers everywhere, for making Simon and Baz choose each other in every possible way. For making them exist in every dimension. Song of the day is Something I Need by OneRepublic. 🐟

**River**

I’ve seen this happen a million different ways.

Sometimes Baz asks Simon, sometimes Simon asks Baz. Sometimes it’s a whisper across a breath, a secret at first. Sometimes it’s a yell across a battlefield as they’re flinging magic in every direction, a final plea to be together in just one more way, one last time. Sometimes Simon has his magic. Sometimes neither of them have magic, and they went to different normal schools. Sometimes they were at the same school, but friends from the beginning, before becoming something else.

Sometimes they fixed things in America, sometimes they never went in the first place. Sometimes it happens now. Sometimes it happens as soon as they leave Watford, like their other classmates. Sometimes it happens when they’ve already grown old together or existed for centuries together as vampires. Sometimes they part ways and reunite in a unique twist of fate. Sometimes it’s a question asked through the veil. Sometimes it’s asked once they’re both already on the other side, destined for eternity anyway. Sometimes it’s a plea to stay on this side:  _ if you stay with me, I swear to you… _

But in every universe, in every possible situation, he always says yes.


	26. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz take a break from real life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Under this chapter on my planning board (which makes it look like I'm plotting a murder) there was just the word "cuddles" so that's what you're getting. This one's dedicated to the healing power of hugs. We all need one. Songs of the day are May I by Trading Yesterday and Here (In Your Arms) by Hellogoodbye and Elliott Yamin. 🐟

25th December 2020

**Baz**

I must be dead, I think. Or at least dreaming. Because how else would Simon Snow be here with me, holding me on Christmas morning while we take a break from the real-life that awaits downstairs? How else would I be breathing in his sweet brown smell? How else would the body that once held the most magic in the universe fit between my arms? Even now it seems impossible.

But he  _ is _ here. He’s here and he’s warm and he’s finally  _ mine. _

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve dreamt of this moment. These past few months, it’s been like I was at Watford again, with him just out of reach. Except, this time I had the possibility of him before me and our time together kept being moved further and further away. At least at Watford, I’d resigned to the fact that I’d never know what this would feel like. I didn’t have any of him to miss. But there were parts that I didn’t even realise I’d missed this time because I knew they’d be too painful to think about. But they all came back to me.  _ He _ came back to me, at last.

Last night, Simon Snow touched me so gently that I thought I would shatter.

I gazed up at the stars above our heads as I have so many times recently, thankful that this time was different. This time I didn’t have to pretend that he was here to stroke his hand through my hair, his wings wrapping around me in an embrace only he can give me.

“The stars were lonely without you,” I remember murmuring into his neck as we were falling asleep. He’d forgotten about them, I think. I guess we were both getting used to the way things were all over again.

Now, he brushes a kiss onto my bare shoulder, his curls tickling my neck. I hold him even tighter and smile. In a few minutes, we’ll have to go downstairs and open presents with everyone else. But for now, it’s just him and me in the morning light as we lie there, safe and warm with a locked door between us and the rest of the world.


	27. Snowstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beast from the East returns!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if this actually happened tbh. Dedicated to stormy hearts. Songs of the day are Hold Back the River by James Bay and Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. 🐟

**Simon**

We’re gathered around the TV watching BBC Breakfast, chocolate button wrappers and bits of ribbon gathered in a pile on the floor. A red banner runs across the bottom of the screen: BREAKING NEWS. Then, below it: The Beast from the East returns.

Baz’s head whips round to look at me. “Arnie,” he says, urgently.

We both stand up.

“Simon and I have to take care of something. We’ll be right back.”

We quickly get dressed, then run out of the house before anyone can object. Once we’re in the forest, Baz quickly guides us into a clearing where there’s a massive hole in the ground. I can see a figure up ahead, squinting up at the gathering clouds. It’s getting colder and windier by the second; my hands have started shaking, but I forgot my gloves.

“River!” yells Baz. They turn, but their reply is drowned out by an almighty roar as it starts to snow. Hard.

Except, I realise, the roar sounds almost like a voice.

_ River, River, River,  _ it echos. Is it imitating Baz?

“Arnie!” screams River. “Please stop for just a minute and listen to me!”

Arnie laughs. It comes out as a menacing rumbling that shakes my bones. “Now where have I heard that before? I asked you to stop running for  _ years. _ ”

“And I did! I did stop, I’m here!”

_ “You were too late!” _

The wind picks up and I grip onto a nearby tree. I grab Baz’s hand as he’s blown towards the edge of the pit. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hang on; I’m losing feeling in my hand.

“Hold on!” I shout, but the wind snatches my words away and I don’t think he hears me.

By the pit, River has transformed into some kind of clawed creature, his feet digging into the ground.

“I stayed!” he’s saying. “I stayed all these years for you!”

“You stayed for the change here!”

“No, Arnie. I stayed because the only thing I wanted to change was the one thing I couldn’t. Change is everywhere, I could’ve gone anywhere. But I’m tired of running and I just want to go home. I just want to come back to you.”

The snowflakes freeze in the air. I only know I’m gripping Baz’s hand now because I can see it. The temperature plummets as the wind stills. Then, slowly, it all draws into the spot where River is standing by the pit. They crouch down and try to shield their face with their arms, but a pair of hands hold their wrists and pulls them to their feet.

Arnie stands there a moment, not letting go of River. His hands slide into theirs’.

“Did you mean it?” he asks.

“Every word. This world is huge and spectacular, but if I’m going to exist in it, I don’t want to just hurtle through and see the sights. I want to live in it, properly, with you. You... you  _ inspire _ me, Arnie. Always have. The things you can do.”

He gestures to the air around us that was just filled with Arnie’s storm.

“I’ve always been so in awe of you, it was kind of terrifying. And I’ve always been so in… well. I guess what I’m saying is: I’ll go with you. Wherever you want, if you’ll still have me.”

There’s a silence before Arnie leans his forehead against his and says: “Of course I will, River. I  _ love _ you. You were my wish.”

“I love you too.” Their words tremble and Arnie catches them in a kiss. I see a tear streak down their cheek and fall to the ground and soon one of Arnie’s tears joins it. A puddle starts forming at their feet and I realise it’s not just tears. They’re both transforming, twisting around each other, tiger, fiercer, into…

“I wish I had a river,” Baz smiles, and I see tears in his eyes, too.

At that moment, River turns to us and whispers “Thank you.”

Then, they both fall down into the pit, a waterfall now. The river winds away, roaring deliriously and crashing their joyful way through the forest. We sit and watch for a bit, wondering if they’ll find the sea, if they’ll become a part of it, or something else completely. Eventually, Baz stands up and holds out his hand.

“Come on, Simon. We ought to be getting home, too.”


	28. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz start to think about their future engagement party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I don't know what happened with this one. I'm very tired, but it's something. Dedicated to fiendish party planners. Song of the day is Engagement Party by Justin Hurwitz because it's peace and quiet time. 🐟

**Baz**

“I want an engagement party,” says Simon.

“Simon, may I remind you that it’s 2020?”

“Yeah, but one day, yeah? When we can invite everyone we know and rub in their faces how stupidly happy we are.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Even Fiona?”

“ _ Especially  _ Fiona.”

I laugh at that. “Who else would come then?”

“Hmm…” He pauses to plant a kiss on my cheek from where he’s sitting beside me. We’re at the foot of my bed eating Shepherd's pie. It’s a tradition. “Well, Penny and Shep, obviously. Agatha-”

“ _ Agatha? _ You want to invite your ex-girlfriend to our engagement party?”

“Yeah, Baz. She means a lot to both of us.”

“Simon, I’m joking. Of course, we’d invite her. We went on the road trip from hell to rescue her. Wouldn’t want her to miss out on this, would we?” I put my arm around him.

Just then, Mordelia and her godforsaken boots crash into the room.

“Knock!”

“Ughhhh!”

“Why do you still do that?” asks Simon.

“Boundaries are very important, Snow.” Then I whisper in his ear, “Plus, I know how much it annoys her.”

That makes him giggle. It’s high and sweet and it stirs something inside my chest, knowing that I made him sound like that.

We’re interrupted by a loud knocking, followed by “Can I come in yet?” from a grumpy-sounding Mordelia.

“Come in!” calls Simon.

“Hey!”

“Well, you can’t leave her out there forever, darling.”

I would object, but Simon Snow just called me darling. I think he’s devious enough to know that that’s always enough to make me be quiet.

“What’cha up to?” Mordelia flops down next to Simon.

“We’re planning what our engagement party would be like.”

“Oooh, fun!” Then she turns serious. “I have ideas.”

By the time we’re called down to watch the Queen’s speech, we’ve filled several pages of a notebook with ideas for guests, themes, colour schemes, food, invitations and loads of other things that Simon and I would never have given much thought. And that’s just Mordelia’s ideas for a  _ party. _ I’m afraid to ask what she’d do with a wedding.


	29. Gift Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's presents time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have awful wifi so it's a miracle this one's up tbh. This is how gift-giving goes down in my house. We're weirdly well-organised when it comes to this. Dedicated to your family's Christmas traditions that MUST be followed EVERY YEAR. Song of the day is Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard because my sister gets annoyed by it every year (gifts ON the tree??) without exception. 🐟

**Simon**

We’re all gathered by the Christmas tree and Daphne’s giving out gifts. They have this really weird system where one person hands out a gift to everyone and then they all open them together. They even have a rota for whose turn it is to hand them out. They asked me last year if I wanted to be added, but I figured that would be a bit weird, seeing as I never have anything for them. I hope one year I’ll be able to afford to give them more than biscuits, but uni costs an arm and a leg as it is. There are a few wrappers in a neat pile in the middle of the room and Malcolm's got a notebook with a fancy pen. It’s not a present, he’s noting down what everyone got and from who so that they can all write personalised thank you letters. What is it with this family and letters?

I still get a few presents: one from each of Baz’s parents and one that comes with a card signed by all of his siblings. Edwin’s name takes up about half of the page, bless him. Baz’s dad gets me a fancy pen like the one he’s holding and Daphne gets paper with my name and address on the top.

“Basilton commented on your love of proper stationery,” Malcolm explains while Baz tries not to snigger into his hand.

His siblings (although I reckon his parents actually bought this one too) get me a set of cake cutters.

“For making different-sized scones,” says Mordelia.

“Thanks, guys,” I say. One of the twins gives me a thumbs up (I still can’t tell them apart).

Baz gets a load of posh crap that I have no clue about but he looks happy with it. Mordelia gets some stuff for her boots and a load of pin badges. Soon, everyone’s quiet and absorbed with whatever they’ve got. I can see now why they leave it so long to do this. Once people have their presents, they become kind of anti-social. I remember the year the littluns got zu-zu hamsters and they spent the entire afternoon chasing them around the mansion. (Although, it was quite funny when Mordelia thought it would be a good idea to place hers at the top of the biggest staircase. Presents had to stay in the living room after that.)

I like this. Watching everyone get so wrapped up in this new thing that they’ve got. It kind of reminds me of how I felt about Watford: amazed that this new thing was _mine,_ that I got to keep it and revisit it. But then, Watford wasn’t forever, was it? I look across at Baz, then down on the ring that’s still on my finger. He doesn’t have a ring yet, says we’ll go together to buy one when we can. I use my hand to pick up my brand new pen and start to write a letter...


	30. Epilogue - Any Way the Wind Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon gives Baz his Christmas present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT! The final chapter! This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever managed to actually finish. Coincidently, while I was writing this a number of chaotic things happened including almost causing a flood. But it’s 2020. We’re expecting these things by now. This chapter is dedicated to YOU for actually making it to the end. Hooray! Song of the day is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! By Frank Sinatra. Hope everyone has an awesome day tomorrow, whether you’re celebrating or not! 🐟

_From the desk of Simon Snow_

Dear Baz,

I know I don’t need to do the whole thank you letter thing, but I wanted to write to thank you anyway. Obviously, this year’s been pretty hard for me. Well, it’s been hard for everyone hasn’t it? But this was meant to be THE year, you know? Uni was gonna be a new start and before that, I missed out on a whole summer with you. But today and yesterday have just… well they’ve saved me. I forgot what it was like, honestly. Just being around you and knowing you’re there. And you’ve given me something to keep me tied to you after I go back ( _if_ I can go back, what with tier 4 and all) – a ring. But more than that you’ve given me a promise that no matter what happens you’ll always be by my side.

Growing up, I didn’t have anything like that. There was no one in my life who told me they were gonna stick around for the long haul. I mean, there was the Mage but we both know how that turned out and I never really believed that my ties to him would last anyway. There were all the people I met at Watford, but when I wasn’t there none of them felt, I dunno, _real_ to me. I even thought I was going to lose Penny to America. Then I thought I was going to lose _you_ to America. But here we are.

So I’m also sealing this letter with my Christmas present to you: a promise. That no matter what happens, any way the wind blows, I’ll stay through it all. Even when I can’t actually be there, I’ll still hold you in my heart. I mean, we’ve managed to make it through this year. How hard can the rest of our lives be?

Merry Christmas, Baz. I love you.

Yours forever,

Simon Snow x

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Carry On Countdown! Since things are pretty hectic this year, but I still want to try to complete all 30 days, I'm going to be posting a mini-chapter of this one fic every day! Since the prompts are pretty random, get ready for some weird chaos. But stick with me here, I'll (hopefully!) get us through! So let's count down to Christmas Eve - the Snowbaz way.  
> Playlist for the fic here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/767bbCHlfpPker77mCDyEM?si=l4WkwTz4QlmpN9uxFOhZDg  
> (Pssst... find me on Tumblr @findingniamho!) 🐟


End file.
